


Dragon Age Drabbles

by ead13



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-05-08 11:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ead13/pseuds/ead13
Summary: I'm not going to lie, friends, having all these tiny drabbles in my works listing bothers my compulsion to organize. Accordingly, after a certain amount of time individual drabbles from the Dragon Age Perfect 100 will be filed here. Anything from the three games goes!





	1. Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadash has forgotten what it's like to be away from him.

Touch used to be something cold, invasive, demanding. Hands were never gentle, from the possessive grasp on my hips to the angry blows to my face.

He’s changed that, like so many things.

Now I’m lying in bed and can’t sleep. I don’t have his warm, tender hands to brush my cheek, thumb running lovingly along my scar. It always soothed me to sleep no matter what demons we fought that day. How am I supposed to survive however long his mission is going to take, the mission that keeps him far away from me? This need leaves me hollow.


	2. Back to Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadash x Blackwall

We find ourselves in the heat of battle yet again as a group of Freemen erupt from the thick vegetation. The flick of my wrists as I unsheathe my twin daggers has become a natural reflex, almost as much as the raising of his shield to protect. I create my smokescreen, sneak behind the oncoming enemy, and burry my blade in his back where he least suspects. Now there’s a hole as their circle tightens, spreading them thinner. Before they cut me off, I retreat to where he stands, pressing my back to his. He has it. He always has.


	3. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Human religion makes no sense to an Orzamar dwarf.

Wynne. Leliana. Alistair. I chose to bring them with me on this mission to recover the Sacred Ashes because I knew Andraste meant something profound to them. Now, standing before the marble urn, their awe and reverence assure me that my choice has made their lives complete somehow.

One thing though. As heart-warming as it is to watch them bask in the glory of their dead prophetess, this is a pile of dust. How do they know it’s truly her? How does it make any more sense than dwarves and their Stone? Earth is earth, but mine at least provides.


	4. Kill Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Varric tells his version of what happened, all his companions roll their eyes.

“So there we were: four bloodied fighters up against outrageous odds, surrounded on all sides by Red Templars who had been lying in wait. There was no way out but to punch through the defenses and make it to base camp for support. Dorian’s magic fizzled in his hands, nearly depleted, and both Blackwall and Cadash were on their last legs. This was a job for Bianca and me. We only had a few bolts left, so they had to count. One quick shot, one arrow between the eyes… Then a second…

“Varric, that’s not even close to what happened!”


	5. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pining, specifically post DA II pining.

This was not the first time a thousand miles separated Fenris and Hawke. The difference was that, unlike the last time, this wasn’t his choice. 

Whatever was growing between them had spooked him the first time he ran from Kirkwall, unaccustomed as he was to feeling…THINGS.

He had come back after years of reconciling things with himself, but now he was alone again, hunting down Tevinter slavers while she carried out some undisclosed mission.

He hid her ribbon away to keep it free of blood, but he always wore it to bed. He’d close that distance. He loved her.


	6. Tea Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine has included tea time into Malika's lessons on how to be proper among the nobles. It isn't going well.

“Tea is just leaves soaked in water. Who decided this was a drink for elite social gatherings?” Malika grumbled, swirling four teaspoons of sugar viciously in the delicate cup. Josie cringed, fearing it would cause the china to shatter. “Seems more like a drink for poor sods who can’t afford anything more flavorful.”

“Mistress Cadash, some of the herbs and spices used in the teas are extremely pricey, imported from far-off regions. It is hardly…”

“You think the Orlesians would notice if I poured ale into the teacup instead?”

Josie fought the urge to weep. Malika was a lost cause…


	7. You Used to be Shy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a part of the Circle may not be the first choice for many, but it has certainly helped Bethany to grow.

Hawke had to stop and stare.

In the middle of the war zone the Gallows had become, her sister herded the younger mages towards safety, shouting orders above the din with terrified children clutching her robes like a life-line. This was somehow the same Bethany as the little girl who never wanted to leave the house, always in fear of being seen for what she was.

“What are you staring at?” Bethany finally snapped at her elder sister between orders. “Time’s running out!”

Hawke shook her head, returning to the moment. “It’s just that…you used to be so shy.”


	8. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Josie accept late work?

“I know it’s late, but better late than never, right?” Ellana attempted with a shrug as she slid a stack of documents across Josie’s desk. Some letters she’d needed to pen, and many treaties she needed to review and sign. She knew a bit of the shems’ written language, but despite having indomitable focus when it came to learning magic and unraveling the mysteries of the Fade, she had none where politics were concerned. It therefore took thrice as long to decipher the words on the pages. Who had the time?

Josie couldn’t help but sigh. “Not necessarily, Your Worship.”


	9. Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's what you do when you live in a nomadic clan. Except this time Ellana will not be joining them.

The sun was hovering at the horizon, the new day promising fair weather. The cool breeze rippling through the trees would be appreciated by both elves and halla once the sun rose in the sky. At dawn, her people had begun to load the aravels in preparation for their journey. This area of the Green Dales could still provide for them, but the humans near Ansburg were on edge. They would move again, as they always did.

Ellana, however, would not be following them east. Her task would lead her south, across the sea, an unfathomable distance from Clan Lavellan.


	10. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cadash questions the suspicious lack of weather-related tropes.

It seemed as though the weather in Orlais was just one more thing conspiring against her.

As they led the man she thought she knew, the man she loved, down from the scaffold and clapped him in irons, the sun was shining bright in the clear blue sky. What the hell, didn’t the Maker have any sense of dramatic effect? The sky should be gray, because all the color disappeared from her world. There should be thunder rumbling like the people’s mutters, and lightning flashing like their wrath. 

Damn it all, why was there no rain to hide her tears?


	11. Guilty Pleasure

It was nearly impossible for him to find time for himself. Living with a band of mercenaries, one ate, drank, fought, and slept as part of a group. Sometimes a member of the Valo-Kas snuck off with a partner for an evening of pleasure, but Karaas was certain none of them ever wanted to be alone in order to read.

If they learned about his secret hobby, they’d tease him, and even light-hearted jabs would hurt. What mercenary spent their earnings on books? Besides, there were no stories where a Vashoth was the hero. Despite that, Karaas never stopped dreaming.


	12. Snow

Natia pulled the cloak Duncan had offered her tightly around her body as they descended the mountains from Orzamaar. She had clearly taken the geothermal heat of her underground city for granted. 

Just then, something light and white floated down in front of her. She stared, then looked up at the gray sky. Another of whatever it was landed on her cheek. So cold! It melted on her skin nearly instantly. More followed. “What is this?!”

Duncan turned around, confused. “The snow? I thought you knew about that.”

“They told me about water falling from the sky, not cold flakes!”


	13. Keeping Warm

People seemed to assume that since dwarves were built solid, they had the natural insulation to keep warm at all times. Before the disaster at Haven, that may have been true for her. However, after her experience wandering the mountains at night and nearly dying of hypothermia, she was not the same. She shivered. Skyhold was a miracle, but never warm enough with its cold stone and biting winds.

It was quite fortunate that since the incident, she found herself able to rely on a very warm, very hairy man to hold her close. If only he’d warm the bed…


	14. Is This Real?

“Is this…real?”

Alistair was bruised and bloody from their final confrontation against the Darkspawn and the Arch-demon. It was entirely possible he was delusional and seeing things, namely the things he wanted desperately to see.

Natia stood before him as the dust settled, the slain corpse of the Arch-demon lying still behind her. She was equally battered, but smiled. “I think so.”

She landed the killing blow. Every Warden before her who had done the same had died alongside the Arch-demon. That witch really had come through!

“Thank Andraste…” he murmured. Teetering, they fell together in a desperate embrace.


	15. In Another Life

At first, she wondered what things would be like if that bastard and his friends hadn’t wandered into the alienage the day of the wedding. She could still be with her father and other family. Nelaros had seemed like such a kind man, being married to him might have been pleasant. There’d still be pain and fear, that was a given for an elf, but not nearly as much as she was enduring as a Warden.

Those thoughts came less and less often. She had friends who were far more loyal. She had freedom to be herself. She had Zevran.


	16. Shadows

No matter how many times he reminded himself that there was no longer any reason to flinch at each moving shadow, he still did. So many years spent in fear, running and fighting for his freedom against every mercenary Danarius had thrown at him… Nowhere had been safe, at least not for long. Every shadow could be another man sent to collect him. But he’d personally grabbed his owner by the throat and ended him with his own hands! No one wanted him now, right?

“It’s all right,” Hawke whispered. He let her fingers intertwine with his. He believed her.


	17. You Should Go

“You should go,” the nagging voice in his head urged. “Wait too long and you will back out yet again like the coward you are. That’s what you always do, isn’t it? It’s time to finally get something right!”

Thom Rainier swallowed back the bile in his throat as he forced himself to his feet. Malika only gently stirred. Good. Malika was a persistent woman. If she woke up, there would be no leaving. If he didn’t leave, another man would die.

Funny, people commented that he was the resolve of the inner circle, yet his always cracked around her.


	18. Questioning Beliefs

“Fenris!” Hawke hissed, roughly grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall. “Take that back! Or did you forget about my mage of a little sister?”

He’d done it again, running his mouth off about the evils of mages. Hawke had every right to be angry in Bethany’s defense. As hard as it was, he could admit that the sweet, rule-abiding girl was the complete opposite of every image he’d ever had of a magic-user. Sometimes he forgot entirely that she was one.

He looked away. “Bethany is a class apart. Still, I apologize for the generalization.”


End file.
